Keep Careful Watch of My Brother's Soul
by Clockwork Hobbit
Summary: Post Battle of Five Armies. Kili is a ghost, and only Fili can see him.
1. Chapter 1

_Oh, misty eye of the mountain below/Keep careful watch of my brother's soul_

* * *

Fili opened his eyes groggily. His head _hurt_, and he rubbed it slightly, but when that made the pain worse, he stopped.

"Oin, he's up!" came a cheerful voice that Fili recognized as Bofur's, who, looking odd without his hat, hurried over to Fili's bedside. "Nice to see you up. We were worried that we had loat you, too."

"Bofur," warned a stern voice-Thorin's. "Too soon."

"He needs to know, Thorin," Balin cut in. Bickering started between what sounded like the majority of the Company. Fili frowned. How many people were in the tent, and where was Kili?

"Kee?" he croaked, and the tent immediately fell silent. Thorin entered Fili's limited line of view, face set in the expression Fili had only seen a handful of times before, when word had been received that one or another of Thorin's old friends had died.

"He...fell in the battle," Thorin said, voice cracking. For all his hard demeanor, he really loved both his nephews, and worried over them. "I'm sorry, Fili."

"How?" Fili demanded, the pain in his head fading away as all his attention focused on what Thorin was telling him.

Thorin shook his head, tears shining in his eyes, and walked away. Balin took his place. "It was after you got that nasty knot on your head," he said. "You were down for the count, we were trying to get you out of the middle of things, and Kili was defending you for all he was worth. He would do anything for you, as you would for him. He ended up surrounded, and he couldn't keep them all off. I'm sorry, Fili."

Fili didn't even know what to do. All his life he had been with his brother-he _belonged_ with his brother. Everything, always, had been Fili and Kili, sometimes FiliandKili, when the speaker was in a rush, like when Dis yelled at them. And now half of that was dead. Dead. Fili couldn't wrap his head around it. What would he do without Kili, without his shadow, without his brother? Who _was_ he, even, without Kili? It didn't seem possible, or right. He would have to learn to get along without his little brother, and he couldn't imagine how.

A new voice broke into Fili's thoughts. "I'm sorry, Fili. I really am." Bilbo was seated on an overturned bucket in the corner of the tent, staying out of all the dwarves' way as they bustled around, looking well except for a nasty-looking purple bruise on his forehead, mostly hidden by his hair. "I saw everything, and...I'm sorry."

Fili could tell that the hobbit wasn't entirely sure what to say, but he appreciated the gesture. He had liked Bilbo well enough from the start, but their not-entirely-willing burglar had grown on him. It had helped that Kili had liked him from the start, and if Kili liked someone, Fili would usually grow to like them as well. Kili was usually a good judge of character.

"Can I see him?" Fili asked quietly, and the entire Company looked at him.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea..." Balin began, but was cut off when Fili scowled angrily.

"I want to see my brother. I need to see my brother." Fili was surprised at how firm his voice was. "I need to see Kili."

Balin deferred to Thorin, who stepped forward. "Let him see his brother."

Dori and Nori pulled back a blanket covering the other cot in the room, and Thorin and Dwalin carefully lifted Fili se he could see. Except for the large dark stain across Kili's chest and stomach, he looked as though he were sleeping, and the knife that had been in Fili's heart and soul since he had heard that Kili was dead twisted a little deeper.

The dark hair of the Durin line, that Kili had and Fili did not, was spread behind Kili's head and shoulders, his eyes were closed, and his sword and bow laid on his chest, as if he were ready to be buried.

"We're waiting until Dis gets here and until you're better to bury him," Thorin said. "We cannot do that without the two of you, his one remaining parent and the brother that was more important to him than his own life." His voice was shaky as he tried not to cry over the dwarf who he had helped raise, who had been practically his son, who had caused him so much trouble over the years as a dwarfling. Fili understood. He was surprised that he was not crying himself over the brother he would never talk to, laugh with, fight alongside, be with again.

* * *

Kili sat up. His limbs were oddly heavy, but he managed to get off the cot. Once that was done, he felt so light, as if he could fly. He hopped experimentally, and went far higher than he had expected, and came down slower. It was an odd feeling.

He looked around. No one in the tent seemed to notice that he was up, which was unusual. He was surprised that Oin or Thorin hadn't come rushing over to quickly put him back into bed. He walked closer, and nearly tripped over Bilbo's feet. He apologized quickly, but the hobbit ignored him, odd behavior for the well-mannered burglar. Kili took a closer look at Bilbo, and frowned. Why was he crying? What had happened? Who had died? The last thing that Kili remembered before waking up was protecting Fili as Oin and Balin tried to get him off the- Fili. _Please, Mahal_, Kili prayed, the first time in years he had done so, _let Fili be okay. I tried so hard to keep him safe. Please let it have been enough._

He reached the foot of the other cot in the tent, and breathed a sigh of relief. Fili was propped up on pillows, eyes shining with tears as he clutched one of Thorin's hands. He was looking towards the cot Kili had just gotten off of. Kili followed his line of vision and gasped. _He_ lay on that cot. But how was that even possible? he asked himself. It didn't make any sense. He was clearly standing right there. He couldn't be in two places at once, could he?

The pieces slowly started to fall into place. The tears. His own body lying there. The way no one seemed to notice him. Fili hadn't died, thankfully. But he had.

The realization that he had to be a ghost struck Kili hard. He sat on the foot of Fili's cot, placing his head in his hands. This wasn't right. It couldn't be.

Fili felt a slight weight at the end of the bed, and looked towards the feeling. _Kili_ sat there, looking slightly off somehow, but still there. "Kee?" he whispered, and his brother grinned.

* * *

**Thoughts? I am hoping to update this semi-regularly...we'll see :P**


	2. Chapter 2

**I replied to users who have accounts, but to my guest reviwers-Thaliacm, Littleflower19, Sarachan, and newbie025-thank you for reviewing.**

* * *

When Thorin heard Fili whisper his nickname for his brother he turned, automatically looking for black hair and a pair of flashing dark eyes. Then he remembered that Kili was dead, and looked down, anger mixing with sadness. Kili was dead. The finality of it was inescapable. Kili, despite appearing darker, had always burned brighter. He had been impulsive where Fili was careful, quick to trust and believe where his brother took more time and convincing, highstrung where Fili was laid back. The two, although complete oppposites in some ways, in others could not be more alike. They had always been inseparable, to the point that they had suffered greatly in time apart from each other, attacked anyone who tried to separate them. It had always been Fili and Kili against the world, and everyone, even Dis and Thorin, had been on the outside. It came as no surprise that Fili was speaking of Kili. Thorin had lost a little brother in battle as well, and although the bond he and Frerin had shared had been nothing like that between Fili and Kili, nowhere near as strong, he understood it at least a little. At least after losing Frerin he had still had Dis, but Fili had no one. No one but his mother and uncle, which was in no way the same as a sibling.

Dis. Thorin groaned. Dis had made him promise at _least_ twenty times to bring her boys home safely, and had threatened punishments should he fail that had Thorin paralyzed with fear. What she would do set uncommon butterflies fluttering in Thorin's stomach, and he begged Mahal to let Dis be so distracted over the loss of her youngest that she forgot her threats. Thorin could hope.

The Company was running on empty. Besides Fili, who had been knocked out and wounded, and Kili, who slept the never-ending sleep of the dead, none of them had gotten any rest, and no one had eaten. There was simply too much to be done, Fili to worry over, Kili to weep over.

One of the Mirkwood elves, who, against all odds, had shown up to aid in the fight, entered the tent, and the dwarves bristled, immediately on their guard. "Lle anta animtu?" the elf asked, his own language flowing gracefully and lyrically off his tongue. "Malia ten' yulna? Vasa?"

"We do not speak your wretched language," Thorin growled, irate.

"Amin hiraetha-I'm sorry," the elf replied. "Do you need help? Do you want a drink? Some food?"

"We do not require help from your kind," Thorin began, but Balin stopped him.

"Thorin, we have neither eaten nor slept since before the battle. Lay aside your pride for a moment and let him help. It will not kill you." Balin's gaze was firm and steady, and Thorin knew he could not argue with his advisor and one of his oldest friends.

"Fine. Thank you." He shook his head, muttering something in Khazdul that had Balin glaring daggers at him. He shrugged, nonrepentant, and turned back towards Fili, who had his eyes fixed on a spot about a foot or two in the air above the foor of his cot, looking as though he could not believe his eyes.

"Kee," Fili whispered again, and Kili's smile grew wider. Fili reached towards his brother, longing to grab his hand, touch him, know he was real.

"You can't touch me, Fee," Kili said sadly "I'm still dead. A ghost. I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can see me. I tripped over Bilbo and he didn't even notice. Don't talk to me too much when others are here-you'll look crazy. Not a good idea for the future king."

Fili nodded slowly, understanding his brother's words. He had to ignore his brother while others were around, as not to look insane. He could, he supposed, do that. He could try, anyway.

* * *

Now that Fili was awake, Thorin felt confident enough to leave him and head back to his own tent to write to his sister.

Once in his tent, Thorin sat on his cot with the portable writing that Balin had lent him on his lap and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, then stopped and stared at the paper. What could he say that would not have Dis arriving at the foot of the Lonely Mountain ready to do whatever awful punishment she had decided upon. Once again, he could only hope that once she actually arrived she would be too preoccupied by the plight of her sons to follow through with her threats. A dwarf could pray. He already had once, but he was sure that repetition would be useful in getting his prayers through to Mahal.

Thorin put the pen to the paper, but only managed to write "Dis-" before he was back to staring at the paper.

He thought for a time, then sighed and wrote what he hoped would be a neutral enough letter. He was pretty sure it was neutral and nonsuspicious, but he was not in the entirely proper state of mind to determine that.

"Dis-

Come to the Mountain. The dragon is dead.

Thorin."

All Thorin could think of when he wrote that Smaug was dead was that Kili was too, but he couldn't say that. He couldn't tell Dis that her baby, the one she had made promise to return, the one she had always thought was reckless-and she was right, Thorin mused-was dead. He couldn't risk her travelling across Middle-earth with that on her mind. It was dangerous to travel, with all the orcs and such out, and Thorin would never forgive himself if he told her about Kili and she died along the route.

He handed the note to one of the runners who was going to the Blue Mountains to tell the dwarves there who had been of Erebor before it fell that they had their home back. There was, of course, much work to be done, but Erebor belonged to the dwarves once again, and Thorin Oakenshield was truly King Under the Mountain at last.

* * *

The dwarves dispersed back the tents that had been set up for them, except for Fili, Kili, Oin, and Balin. Oin stayed behind to care for his patient, and Balin to fulfill his promise to Thorin to watch over Fili.

"Balin?" Fili asked sleepily. "Do any of your stories speak of ghosts?"

Kili, sitting on the floor near Fili's bed, looked up, curious.

"Funny you should ask, laddie," Balin replied. "I was actually just thinking of stories I have heard, odd cases, of close siblings or friends who were inseparable, much like you and Kili. One or the other would die, and there would be be tales of the survivor saying they could see the dead, that friend's or sibling's ghost. But only the survivor could see the ghost. They were entirely real, but just not visible to anyone else. It's very rare. We all thought Thorin and Frerin were very close, but yet Thorin could not see Frerin. Why do you ask?"

"I can see Kili," Fili murmured.

"And that is no surprise, laddie," Balin replied. "You two were all but one person. I would have been shocked if you were not able to see him. Is he here now?"

Fili nodded. "By your feet."

Kili waved, even though Balin couldn't see him, and Fili laughed. It was nice to laugh, be lighthearted again. And it was even nicer to know that he was not going crazy.


	3. Chapter 3

**My apologies for both taking so long to update and not sending out messages to my reviewers...I'm in a bit of a time crunch. Enjoy the chapter, though.**

* * *

Thorin slept better than he had since before deciding to reclaim Erebor. He knew that his Company, excepting Kili, was safe. They would not be attacked in their sleep, and that was a relief.

When he woke and went outside, Bilbo was waiting for him. The little hobbit bounced anxiously, and Thorin glared at him. "Stop that." Then he realized that to see Bilbo outside his tent like that was decidedly uncommon, and he tipped his head slightly. "Why are you here?"

"To tell you that I'm returning to the Shire," Bilbo said. "I've done what you asked me to do, what you needed me for, and I want to return to my books and my armchair and Bag End."

Thorin stared at Bilbo, realizing with a pang that he would miss the hobbit. Despite the way they had started out, he had really grown fond of their burglar. "You can't leave yet. You are a member of my Company—you have to stay for the official coronation and…" His voice broke slightly, and he swallowed hard. "And Kili's funeral."

"When will they be?" Bilbo asked.

"Coronation first, then the funeral. I am just waiting for Dis to arrive from the Blue Mountains."

Bilbo tipped his head. "Who is Dis?"

"My little sister," Thorin told him.

Bilbo nodded slowly. "I understand why you want to wait for her for the coronation, but why the funeral?"

Thorin sighed. "Fili and Kili are my sister-sons—my nephews. Dis is their mother. Kili looks—looked—like her, and Fili takes after the lads' father, who died before Kili was even born. We cannot bury Kili without Dis. She would have my head." _And she might anyway_.

"I will stay, then," Bilbo said. "For those two."

The runner had made the trek from Erebor to the Blue Mountains in record time. He had delivered all but one message, and now climbed through the kingdom to deliver the last one. He reached the door and knocked, and a voice called out for him to come in. When he entered a dark haired dwarf woman turned. "Yes?"

"I have a message for you."

The woman—Dis—held out her hand, and the runner gave her the message. She read it quickly, then looked at the runner. "Are you returning straight to the Mountain?" The runner nodded, and Dis smiled softly. "Then I will travel with you."

The runner waited in the stone halls while Dis got ready to leave, packing only what she could carry. She joined him in the hall within ten minutes, armed and carrying a bedroll on her bag. "Let's go, then."

They left the Blue Mountains and started on the trek to Erebor. Watching her, the runner could see how Dis was Thorin Oakenshield's sister, as she shared many characteristics with her brother. The resemblance was striking.

Kili left his tent and wandered aimlessly around the camp, bored. The only person who could see him was Fili, and although that was nice, he wanted to be able to do more. He felt completely useless, the dark-eyed and hotheaded bundle of energy and fighting talent reduced quite literally to a specter. Of course there would be times when Fili was away or too busy to talk to his dead little brother, and then he would be alone. He couldn't pick up objects without extreme effort, and then he would be far too tired to even try to use what he had expended all that effort for. He couldn't fight, he couldn't play games, he couldn't read (not that he had ever been a great scholar, even before his death), he couldn't do anything.

An odd feeling rather like the tingling he had experienced in life when his limbs fell asleep passed through Kili, and he frowned, looking around. Bofur stood right behind him, arms crossed and frowning. "A cold spot..." he murmured, waving an arm through Kili, who stood as if rooted to the spot and unable to move, again and again, feeling what he perceived as a spot of cold air. Kili shifted uncomfortably as Bofur's hand moved repeatedly through his stomach, then finally unfroze enough to move away. Bofur swiped his hand through the spot again, then stared in shock, as the area was now warm.

Kili, now a couple feet away, frowned. He had tripped over Bilbo, yet Bofur's hand went right through him. He didn't understand. It seemed as if he had quite a lot to learn about being a ghost. Balin knew of his situation, and he was sure that the elderly scholar and advisor would help him out. Fili had told him of the situation, and Balin had a soft spot for the lads, having been their teacher and occasional babysitter through their childhood.

The runner entered the camp and was greeted by Dwalin. He shifted uncomfortably, daunted by the large dwarf with his tattoos and scars, then scurried off as Dis entered as well.

"Dis," Dwalin rumbled, inclining his head. He had always treated Dis as the little sister he had never had, since having grown up as one of Thorin's closest friends meant he had to have been close to Frerin and Dis as well.

"Where is Thorin?" Dis asked, voice imperial. She would have made a fine court lady had the dragon not interfered. She still would. "And my sons?"

Dwalin chose to ignore the question about Fili and Kili, choosing instead to let Thorin deal with that particular issue. "Your brother ordered that you were to come straight to see him when you arrived. His tent is this way."

He walked off and Dis hurried after him. Dwalin's strides were not rapid, but they were long and purposeful, and Dis had to take two to every one of his. Soon enough they arrived at Thorin's tent.

"I leave you here," Dwalin said, and Dis thanked him, took a deep breath, and entered the tent.


End file.
